i didn’t tell them i was hurting i didn’t tell them because im ashamed ashamed to hurt ashamed to feel- feel anything other than gratitude for this life i have because my parents are together they don’t fight i have a good house a steady life i am not lacking with money i even have a yard and school so when i complain it means nothing because i am the pretty privileged girl that you’ll see in clas...

it never goes away not when your friend makes you smile not when you listen to a favorite song

but you’re not the only one going through it the girl in your math class with the thick eyeliner and scars on her wrists she is too

and the gay guy on your bus the one with the opinions and loud voice he’s sad inside too

and your science teacher she went through this too: a girl with the side part and...

this frickin sucks butt i love violence more than flight! peace is so boring...

i remember a time when words didn’t matter, when crayon colors were our main concern when everything was solved with a hug

i remember a time when the drama was simply who liked who when we worried about writing a paragraph about what we did over the weekend when fidget toys solved problems

i remember a time when homework became daily when we started getting crushes for real when our minds became...

im scared im at the point where people start to do long term things start saving dating planning prepping jobs college serious classes it scares me to think that the next person i date could be the person i date til college that’s terrifying i’m scared my life is beginning and i’m not ready for it i’m not ready to be on my own to start watching my friends grow old to start to grow old to watch pe...

i’ve questioned my sexuality for him- maybe even changed it. but it’s worth it when he smiles at me it’s worth it when he helps me and smiles when he focuses on just me the pain disappears he makes it worth...

it’s odd to feel… like a part of something. i don’t know if it’s the uniform if it’s marching or if maybe it’s the drumline itself because they are the reason i go through this hell: shoes that give me blisters a drum as big as me a director tough as the concrete we practice on the promise of greatness the people might be the reason i stay...

the question of what makes a person a monster has baffled me for years. is it being emotionless, or just not caring? well i finally found my answer: it is neither. it’s when you shoot your mother with her gun. take her car and go to an ELEMENTRY SCHOOL and shoot. kill 26, 20 first graders, shoot them up so bad, they had to use THEYRE FUCKING SHOES the light up ones. and kill the teachers trying...